


Stranger in a Strange Land

by darthmelyanna, miera



Series: stargate_ren [29]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-12-07
Packaged: 2019-10-02 15:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthmelyanna/pseuds/darthmelyanna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: Lady Samantha makes a visit to the Tok'ra, and rekindles a friendship with someone from her distant past. By sache8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In case anybody was wondering what in the world happened to Sam. ;-) Thank you to miera_c and melyanna for letting me play, and also for letting me take my time. Lots and lots and lots of time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place roughly around the same time as Precipice/The Summit/Collapse.

"–middle of a war! We have been charged with a very serious responsibility by Her Majesty, and I don't think I have to explain to you that any interruption in my working conditions constitutes a very serious setback to the project!"

Once upon a time, Lady Samantha would have been annoyed by this self-aggrandizing assessment, but now it only amused her. She looked at Master McKay with fond pity and amusement.

"First of all, Rodney," she said, picking up a stack of papers and carefully sifting through them to make sure they were all accounted for, " _we_ are not at war. Neither your country nor mine."

He made that face, the one where he was stumped but couldn't bear the indignity of admitting it. He held up a finger like he was going to retort and sputtered a couple of times. "Well – that's – We might as well be," he finished haughtily, lowering his hand again.

"Also," she said, choosing to disregard this weak retort, "as I recall, you weren't terribly confident about the merit of my participation when this began." She gave him a pointed look and added the notes to her portfolio.

Rodney shuffled his feet, looking somewhat shamefaced. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I admit, I was much too quick to judge, and I believe we've been over this already." He cleared his throat.

"We have. I apologize; I will endeavor to forfeit that particular barb."

"But why do you have to leave?" he insisted again, now stepping forward with a petulant complaint in his voice.

"I know this is going to make things more difficult for you, Rodney, and I am sorry for that, but it's the Tok'ra. What would you do? Tell me. The queen has already admitted that the opportunity is too valuable to pass up, even in light of our project's importance." She put the portfolio on the nearby table and stared at him expectantly, hands on her hips. "You envy me. Admit it."

Once again she had him in a corner. Once again he stubbornly refused to answer for the usual allotted amount of time before his shoulders slumped and he glared at her. "You know I couldn't go because I do have a fixed obligation here, but yes. I understand the inducement."

Save the Asgard, there was no group of people so secretive and mysterious as the Tok'ra. In fact, there was much that the two peoples had in common, including scientific secrets that were the envy of all their neighbors. The Tok'ra, fledgling rebels of the Goa'uld who had forged their own sovereignty by sheer force of will, guarded that sovereignty with fierce care, reluctant to trust anyone with their secrets, not even their allies.

Samantha's father, Jacob, ambassador of Atalan to the Tok'ra, had been petitioning his hosts to allow her to join him there for the better part of a decade, ever since she was sixteen years old and her brazen enthusiasm for science had first distressed the court matchmakers. Their refusal had become so consistent that when Jacob returned with news that they had at long last agreed, Samantha had at first thought he was jesting with her.

The fact that the queen was away from the court was no obstacle. Jacob had written to her as soon as the invitation had been extended, and she had been swift in forwarding her consent to Atlantis.

"If I learn anything important about how you can improve your next designs, I will bring it back with me, Rodney, I promise. Or pass it along, if I am permitted to extend my visit."

"Do you really think you'll want to stay? I mean, it's very hot and dry there, isn't it?"

"If my father is to be believed."

"Who would want to put their country in a place like that?" He made a distasteful expression.

"A people with a great need to hide and discourage invasion, I suppose," she said. "The fact that they manage to thrive there is part of the mystery, after all."

"Your father hasn't told you much about it?"

Samantha shook her head. "Only what he's permitted to. He's sworn to reveal certain things about the Tok'ra only to the queen. I suppose that I will now be bound by that promise, as well."

"How many have you ever met? I mean, apart from their ambassador here. What's her name?"

"Sina." Samantha wrinkled her nose.

"Oh, I know. She has the personality of a potato," Rodney agreed. "And their ambassador to Iolan is not much better. Are they all like that?"

"No." Samantha returned her attention to her portfolio. She had included all the notes she really wanted to take with her. She began tying the ribbons on the sides tightly, not wanting the papers falling loose in the journey. "An entourage of them came here, once, for Elizabeth's birthday celebration the year she turned sixteen. They were hoping to strengthen ties with Atalan through her marriage and had brought a few willing suitors as well as some of their brightest minds to try to provoke the favor of the college toward such an alliance. Their effort was almost uniformly discouraged, but I did make friends with one of the party. A woman named Jolinar. She was a few years older than me, but–"

"–but?" Rodney pressed. His curiosity was unapologetic.

"–but I was so enchanted with her, Rodney. For a few short days, she was the mentor I'd always longed for. She didn't think it strange for us to stand in a ballroom and discuss astronomy or mathematics just because we were both wearing gowns. And she was _surprised_ when I confessed to her my difficulty in finding any sort of peer in that regard, male or female. Which leads me to conclude that the Tok'ra must have a refreshing openness of mind when it comes a woman's capabilities. Truly, I have never felt so comfortable with another person's companionship, scientifically speaking, and until my friendship with you have not received as much respect. It was because of her that I started pushing all the harder for this opportunity."

"Well, that's good. At least you'll have a friendly face of sorts when you arrive."

Samantha shook her head sadly. "No. She died. A few years ago. Some sort of cave-in, I believe."

"Oh. I am sorry. And –" he flushed, "–may I say, I am honored that you... respect my respect." He got a confused look on his face. "I should have pondered that a bit more before I tried to express it, I suppose."

Samantha laughed.

"Samantha," said Rodney, now all earnestness. "I want you to know, in regards to my clumsy efforts to – well – to curry your favor –" He paused and glanced at her cautiously, as though seeking permission to venture on.

"Yes, Master McKay?"

"Well, I just want you to know – and it may not be important – but I want you to know that I still find you to be a very singular woman, but your friendship has become as precious to me as my hope for something stronger ever was." He coughed awkwardly.

"Thank you, Rodney."

He tugged on his shirt. "Well, then. Yes. I daresay I shall see you once or twice more before you actually depart, but –" He paused, then in an ungainly manner that only he could accomplish, seized her hand and gave it a clumsy, heartfelt kiss. "Have a safe journey, Samantha," he said when he straightened. Then he turned with military sharpness and walked out of the room. The backs of his ears were notably more pink than usual as he walked away, but his head was high.

Samantha watched him depart with a fond smile on her face, then clutched her portfolio to her chest and glanced out at the hot summer sky through the window of the study they had shared for so many months, pondering what lay ahead.

* * *

"There it is."

Beside her on the deck, Samantha's father stretched a steady hand toward the rocky coast a half league south. Samantha braced her hand on the deck railing and squinted through the glare off the water.

"How can you be sure?" she asked, straightening. "It looks exactly the same as all the preceding shoreline."

Jacob chuckled. "I have made this journey so many times that I know the silhouette of every crag by heart."

"And how long is the journey to the Tok'ra city?" She pulled away from the railing and turned to face him.

"A quarter day's ride by carriage. After that, we shall be obliged to walk for a bit."

"Walk?"

He gave a secretive smile. "You will see."

Samantha set her first foot on Tok'ra soil just as the sun reached its zenith. Or, rather, Tok'ra _sand_ she amended as she glanced down. The narrow band of it extended only a few feet inland from the edge of the water, and in some places the sharp, rust-colored rocks that dominated the coast ran right into the water itself.

The only avenue in this natural fortress was a narrow canyon. The carriage her father had spoken of was already waiting at its mouth. Samantha allowed the servant to assist her up into it and prepared herself for an uncomfortable journey.

When she wasn't talking to her father, she distracted herself with an intent study of the terrain. It was far different than what she'd been expecting. She had always known from her father's stories that Tok'ra country was arid, but she couldn't understand why he'd never spoken of all these rocky hills and their near-impossible navigation, unless for some reason they were a specific aspect of the things the Tok'ra had asked her father to keep in confidence. The more she considered, the more sensible this explanation seemed. She noticed that the canyon had many more branches, and she had already lost track of their route. Knowledge of how to navigate the canyons would very reasonably constitute a matter of secrecy.

Finally, after almost three hours' of rough riding, the carriage bumped to a stop. "Here we are," her father announced.

Samantha looked around in surprise. She'd been waiting to spy a settlement of some kind, a city in the distance. She looked around. The wagon had come to a halt in the middle of a curve in the gorge, which continued around a bend up ahead.

"Here?" she asked in confusion.

"I told you it was a surprise," Jacob said, amused. He held out a hand to help her down off the wagon. She made a face of discomfort as her cramped legs hit the ground. "Follow me."

A Tok'ra man was standing at a wicked-looking crack in the near side of the canyon wall. The crack was half again as tall as an average man, but extremely narrow, so that Samantha was obliged to duck slightly in order to follow her father through it. After a few feet of walking ahead in the darkness, his hand tugged at hers, letting her know she could straighten. This she gratefully did, stretching her back and blinking around at the darkness. A little light crept in the way they'd come, but its reach was not very long.

There was a loud sputter and her eyes were suddenly met with an onslaught of orange firelight. Then another, and another. Soon there was plenty of light, enough for Samantha to get a good look at the sparkling formations of the cavern in which they were standing. She gave a delighted gasp.

"I knew you would like this part." Her father was smiling fondly at her. "Come on then, Samantha. It isn't too difficult a trek, though I confess I have never before attempted it in a gown."

Samantha did have to mind her step, more so than she would have preferred, because it forced her to be constantly looking down. Her gaze was much more favorably inclined to look upward, where the torchlight coaxed more colors out of the damp stone than she would have believed.

"Where does the water come from?"

"The Xeres River. It flows south out of Goa'uld country and cuts across the Tok'ra lands. When it reaches the coastal hills, it goes under them instead of through them."

"That is amazing."

"In the southern part of the country, the Tok'ra use the river to irrigate the soil. They get a decent yield, but only if the spring rains on the other side of the southern border keep the river nicely full."

Jacob chatted pleasantly about other such details as they walked, and Samantha listened with a partly-attentive ear. The rest of her hearing was now trained in an effort to hear the subterranean river her father had spoken of, though she couldn't seem to place any sound that would qualify.

Finally, after about an hour of walking, they turned a corner and Samantha recognized the presence of sunlight, creeping up on her vision from somewhere ahead. A couple of turns more and she saw a silhouetted doorway in the rock wall ahead. Crevices in the wall above it also let in light from up above. She craned her neck, trying to get a good look at this new, vast cavern and was briefly surprised to see a tall, precariously-looking staircase hewn from the stone that ended in a carved doorway in the distance, many, many feet above their heads. She didn't have the chance to ponder it for long, though. Her father was hurrying her toward the far doorway. When she passed through it, she squinted fiercely into the onslaught of hot afternoon sunshine before she was truly able to see what was on the other side. Then she gaped.

It was a city. Nothing so grand as Atlantis, but what it lacked in size it more than made up for in audacity. Buildings, towers, plazas, and tunnels were carved and constructed out of solid rock. Every which way, the Tok'ra people could be seen going about their daily lives, and Samantha was overcome with an urgent desire to charge through it all – every staircase, every corner.

"Welcome to Vorash," said Jacob. "The secret city of the Tok'ra."

Samantha would have expected to first be shown to her quarters upon her arrival. Instead, she and her father were first taken to a receiving hall of some kind, where Jacob was greeted with warm affability and Samantha with polite interest. After that, a serving woman escorted Samantha to a public bathing chamber, where she found a fresh change of clothes waiting for her. Her escort allowed her to freshen up and change.

As she dressed again, Samantha reflected on how different things were here already than they were in Atlantis. For one thing, the clothing she had been provided was her own, meaning that someone had opened her trunks and gone through her things in order to get them, and the thought made her a bit uncomfortable, even slightly offended. She almost opened her mouth to speak of it, but decided on second thought to simply ask her father about it whenever they had a chance to speak in private. She certainly did not wish to stir up misunderstanding and ruffle the good will her father had established with these people on her very first day.

After that, Samantha was taken to a long, cool chamber full of people, with a long table laid out, already full to bursting with strange-looking dishes. Samantha's stomach rumbled, but she also found herself agitated. For some reason, ignorance of her sleeping arrangements was more irritating to her than she would have expected. Still, she was very hungry, and she'd had very little in the way of fresh food since their journey had begun.

Most of the guests were still standing, but Samantha and her father took their seats. The table was low to the ground, and they sat on the floor. One of the Tok'ra spotted her father and immediately came up to ask him something. Samantha took the opportunity to study her surroundings more closely. The cavern of the dining hall was long and lofty. The low hum of conversation echoed in the vast space. Light came in through cracks in the ceiling high above, so high that Samantha couldn't see some of them clearly. She did, however, note a system of large, smooth mirrors embedded into the walls that collected the light beams and channeled them down into the bottom of the cavern. This system fascinated her, so much that she almost forgot her hunger, and was overcome with a strong desire to climb the walls by the most expedient means possible to examine these contraptions firsthand.

"You look puzzled, Lady Samantha."

Startled, Samantha cast about wildly for a moment. Someone was addressing her, someone tall and thin, whose features were difficult to ascertain in the strange lighting. She squinted up at the silhouette in what was probably a very unflattering manner.

The silhouette gave a soft chuckle. "I beg your pardon," he said. "I will spare you the indignity of addressing me with a crick in your neck." With the casual grace of constant practice, the stranger lowered himself to join her at the table. Samantha found herself a bit startled when she finally resolved upon his features. There was a spark of familiarity, like she should know who he was, but no name or event of acquaintance stepped up to fill the gap. This she found even more frustrating than not being shown to her accommodations.

He had a thin face, fair hair closely cut, and tanned skin. His teeth were distractingly straight, and his eyes were pale blue and very striking. At the same time, they were full of gentleness. "What is your question, my lady?"

She wanted to blurt an inquiry as to his identity, but a different part of her mind fixed on an opportunity to learn, and seized upon it eagerly.

"The mirrors," she blurted, and pointed upward. "They are very useful, but what happens when the sun changes its position? They cannot serve their purpose thus for more than an hour or so."

The stranger smiled widely with approval. "You are very perceptive." He gestured to a different part of the cavern ceiling, one shrouded in shadow. "There are many more mirrors than you can now see. These compensate for the hour of the day. All of the mirrors may be adjusted in a variety of directions as need demands. They are changed several times a day by our servitors."

Samantha looked at him sharply. "How do you get to them?"

"From behind. There are tunnels and crawlspaces behind most of these walls."

She looked back up at the lighting with renewed interest. "I would like to see that."

"It would be my pleasure to show you, as time permits in your visit here."

"While you're answering questions," Samantha asked, "if I may?"

"By all means."

"What do you do when it rains? Surely a crevice large enough to let in so much light would permit a veritable deluge in here."

This question seemed to surprise him. "It almost never rains here, lady."

Samantha's mouth opened slightly, brought short by this glaring fact. The stranger hesitated, watching her reaction, and only when she relaxed into a quiet laugh did his own smile allow his amusement to be betrayed.

"Forgive me," Samantha said. "I was so overcome by the problem that I missed the completely obvious. I confess I was hoping to be dazzled by more Tok'ra ingenuity. I hope you do not think me a simpleton."

"It would be impossible, Lady Samantha, to form such an impression when I already know full well the sharpness of your mind."

Samantha gave him a curious expression. "Sir, if I may be so forward as to inquire if we have met before? It must have been in Atlantis, but I have no clear recollection."

"I had wondered if you would remember." A look of sadness came over his face. "Though you and my lady wife were so often in counsel at the time that I am not surprised at being resigned to the more distant corners of your memory."

Samantha stared at him in amazement. "Lord Martouf!" she said wonderingly. "I – I apologize. Of course I should have remembered!"

"Think nothing of it. I was much engaged in matters of state at the time."

The more Samantha looked at him, the more she was chagrined that she had not recognized him. Jolinar had played such an important and formative part in Samantha's life, however short-lived the acquaintance had been. But he was correct. While she had briefly been introduced to him, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him after that. And he looked different now than her vague memory – more careworn, somehow.

"I was so grieved to hear of Jolinar's death," Samantha said. "More than you can possibly know."

"And I apprehend what such news would have meant to you," he assured her. "Jolinar was quite fond of you, and very impressed with your mind and your thirst for knowledge. She spoke often of you on our journey home from Atlantis."

Samantha pondered a long moment, wondering if the things she wanted to say were too forward in such a time and place. "I have always considered her as more than merely my friend," she said. "She was like an older sister I never had. She allowed me to believe in myself." Samantha cracked a knowing smile. "And my outlandish notions."

Martouf chuckled. "Well, in any case, it is a pleasure to have you in our city, Lady Samantha. Perhaps we can find sufficient outlet for your outlandish notions during your stay."

It was here that Jacob's conversation on Samantha's other side finally came to a close. "Ah, Lord Martouf," he said gladly when he fixed on Samantha's companion. "I see you have both been reacquainted."

"I know how much the provost likes to talk," said Martouf, nodding his head conspiratorially in the direction of Jacob's former conversation partner, who was now thoroughly engaged with a distinguished-looking woman at the head of the table. "I did not wish for Lady Samantha to pass so long a space of time unoccupied."

"For that you have my thanks," Jacob said merrily.

"And mine," Samantha added. "If I may ask, who is that woman?"

"That is Chancellor Yosef. She was elected as the leader of Vorash only last summer."

Just then, Chancellor Yosef rose, and any chance at further conversation came to an end. Samantha considered her discourse with Martouf as she was introduced to several Tok'ra dignitaries. However else her stay here progressed, it was good to have made a friend.

* * *

Samantha's first few days in Vorash continued to be a series of surprises and adjustments. The first night, when she was finally shown to her bed, she was not shown to the private chamber she'd been expecting, but to a long, dormitory-style room where she was to take her repose with the other young unmarried women close to her own age. She half-expected to see a task mistress with a stern countenance at every moment, ordering her when to snuff her candle or inspecting the cleanliness of her sheets, but it seemed that the women who lodged here were afforded relative independence, despite the communal nature of the chamber.  
She remarked on the circumstance to her father, who informed her that daily life in the Tok'ra society was more focused around the community and less around a family unit as Samantha was used to thinking of it. Only then did Samantha realize that she hadn't seen a single child since her arrival.

"There are no children in Vorash," Jacob said knowingly. "Its purpose is to guard against threats from the coast and also to safeguard all of the Tok'ra's most precious scientific endeavors. Children are not permitted here for their own safety."

"Because of the Goa'uld?"

"Yes."

After about a week, when Samantha's body had finally begun to acclimate to the change in climate, diet, and sleeping in a cavern, she received a visit from Lord Martouf. He found her reading after breakfast. The parapet where she sat overlooked the heart of the city, affording her a good view of the Tok'ra coming and going. She was careful to sit well within the protective shade offered by the overhang above her head. Even with all her diligence, her fair skin had become an uncomfortable reddish-pink.

"What is it that you read, Lady Samantha?"

She had sensed someone's approach, but that was not uncommon, so she was surprised that this latest intruder had not simply passed her by, but had stopped to converse.

"Lord Martouf," she greeted pleasantly when she looked up. She recognized him by his voice and his thin build. Once again it was difficult to gauge his face, as the bright sun was behind him. Samantha regarded the book in her hand. "It's an almanac on botany common to Atalan, and its various practical and medicinal uses. Hardly useful in this environment, I suppose, but I've been meaning to get around to reading it for months."

"That sounds most interesting."

"Will you sit?" she asked, indicating the space that extended on either end of the stone bench.

"I would, but I ought to let you know that I came over to extend an invitation. Would you like to have a closer look at our system of mirrors, as you requested? You expressed such an interest the other evening when you first arrived. I don't wish you to think I had forgotten."

Samantha closed the book with haste. "Most certainly!" She rose to her feet.

Martouf seemed surprised. Then he gave a quiet chuckle.

"What is it? Did you not mean right away?" She began to brush the dust from her skirt.

"Oh, I did, I just had not expected quite so immediate and enthusiastic a response."

"I am unaccustomed to being idle," she confessed when she had finished. "I have been welcomed here with all cordiality, but without occupation I find myself out of sorts. Did you not feel much the same when you visited Atlantis?"

Martouf held out a hand to indicate their direction, and together they began walking away while he replied. "Not precisely. I was much occupied, but there were many occasions in which I found myself desirous of a more _lively_ itinerary. Diplomacy is a very tedious business, most days. I shall do my best to ensure your lasting impression of the Tok'ra is not tedious, Lady Samantha."

He led Samantha through so many twisting, branching tunnels that she knew she would not have been able to retrace the route, nor indeed to find her way out again without guidance. Like the journey from the sea to Vorash, this was undoubtedly by design. Before long they were obliged to walk single file, and at times to turn sideways to fit through narrow crevices. Samantha thought of Rodney, who had a particular aversion to small, cramped spaces. She had discovered this tendency one day when they'd been inspecting the joining of the timber on the interior of the _Prometheus_. He had been highly embarrassed, but she had assured him that she would keep his confidence on the matter. She didn't think he would have been able to support this cavern travel unless his very life were at stake.

"These tunnels – it seems as though parts of them are natural and others are not," Samantha observed to Martouf. She reached up and brushed her hand against a smooth section of stone that looked to have been chiseled away with a particularly wide blade.

"That is correct. The process of determining how to shape the tunnels is a very time-consuming one, but we have become quite skilled."

"How do you do it? How do you know where to tunnel without wasting your efforts? Or affecting the integrity of the passages?"

"It is a matter of the way sound travels through the stone," Martouf explained. "When we are developing a new section of the city, we explore all the natural cavern system we can within the specified area. Then, by tapping on the stone in various ways, we can get an idea of the thickness of the stone between the caverns and the safest and easiest places to tunnel."

"That sounds fascinating," Samantha said. "Are you tunneling anywhere now? I would like to observe this process."

Martouf smiled. "Please, my lady. Let me satiate one curiosity before you rush off to the next. Are you ready to climb?"

"Climb?"

She noticed that they had come to what presented itself as the end of the tunnel, but then noticed that the wall ahead of them was in fact a very steep staircase, almost a ladder, but without the benefit of full purchase on its rungs. "I hope you find no distress in such a climb," Martouf added, looking suddenly concerned. "I apologize; it was not something I had considered until now."

Samantha studied the staircase determinedly. "It would be easier were I wearing trousers," she confessed, "but I have passed these last months in the company of shipwrights. I have not let that stop me before." She reached down, pulled the front hem of her skirt between her feet, then up behind until she could tuck it snugly into the laces at her waist, making a voluminous sort of petticoat that fell just past her knees. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked at Martouf smugly.

He stared at her, amazed for a moment, before the most unassuming smile took over his features. Samantha found that she could not help but return it, and something new whispered in the region of her stomach, as fleeting as a moth that she might spy in the corners of her vision.

"You are very like Jolinar," Martouf said, still smiling. "But I fear for the security of your handiwork in this climb. Some of the tighter passages may loosen it. If... you would permit me?"

He gestured somewhat abashedly at her waist, and Samantha realized what he was asking.

"Oh," she said, suddenly conscientious of propriety in a thousand new ways. Which did not prevent her from a giving a shy nod of assent.

Martouf handed her the torch he'd been carrying and stepped around behind her. He studied the problem for a moment, then gingerly reached out and untied the cords that gathered the dress, between which she'd stuffed the hem. He pulled the edge more tidily down through the crosses, then sharply tightened the cords.

Samantha let out a gasp. "I shan't be able to climb if I can't breath, Lord Martouf," she pointed out.

"My apologies." He loosened the ties again slightly, then spent another few moments ensuring the skirts would not be able to wriggle free of their net, and Samantha found herself feeling very warm. She was amazed to discover how much she liked the smell of him and how all of her skin seemed to sing when his fingers brushed slightly against her waist, or his concentrated breathing tickled the back of her neck and ears.

Samantha wasn't a fool. She knew that something had just changed in her perception of this man, and she recognized it exactly for what it was. What she was to do about it was another matter, but not one to worry her for now.

With a final tug, Martouf finished his work and stepped away.

"Thank you," Samantha said.

"It was my –" he began, then faltered slightly. "That is, you're welcome." He reclaimed the torch and began to climb one handed.

The staircase was not actually as treacherous as Samantha had first imagined. There were handholds carved into the stone that helped to secure the climb considerably. "Your people climb these every day, just to adjust the mirrors?" she asked.

"It does seem an inconvenience, doesn't it?" he admitted. "But the task is divided among many."

"What if someone gets sick?"

"Then we can't see our plates." There was amusement in his voice.

When they finally reached the top of the staircase, the passage leveled out somewhat, but the floor was uneven. Samantha followed Martouf's example and took great care with her footing. Finally, they arrived at a niche in the rock wall that housed one of the large mirrors Samantha had seen from the dining hall.

It was larger than she'd imagined, having seen it from such an awkward distance. It was about the size of one of the old shields in the armory of Atlantis, which Lord Jack had never favored for use in the army due to their cumbersome size. Unlike the shields, however, the mirror was as flat as a tin dinner plate. It was mounted to a spherical joint-like device that reminded her greatly of the way the bones of the arm fit into the shoulder, which she had learned about when Master Thor had been teaching her some rudimentary anatomy. The spherical joint allowed the mirror to be turned a full spectrum of directions, both horizontal and vertical.

"These notches tell the placement of the mirror for each hour," Martouf explained, pointing to a series of notches along the wall. "And these braces ensure that the disc doesn't shift." Here he pointed to some heavy clay plugs lined with cloth that were wedged between the edges of the mirror and the wall, once the mirror was in the correct position. "Would you care to try?"

Samantha looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Well, it is almost the ninth hour, and I told Delek I would oversee his duty for today. Go ahead. It needs to be moved to here." He pointed to the next groove on the wall.

Gingerly, Samantha reached out and tugged at the first brace that was holding the mirror. It wasn't as difficult to remove as she thought, and the other soon followed. She handed them to Martouf and then grasped the edges of the mirror, carefully pointing it until the black mark painted on the back matched up with the notch he had indicated. Then, with Martouf's help, she secured it to its new proper place.

"Very well done," he praised. Samantha didn't think the task particularly challenging, but she accepted the compliment with a pleased smile nonetheless. She edged to the left, where she could see the cavern on the other side of the mirror through the crack between the mirror's edge and the cavern wall. She looked until she found one of the companion mirrors, even higher up than they were, and reflected in its face, a patch of cloudless blue sky.

"You know," she said aloud, "the Asgard use mirrors this way in their spyglass devices, the ones they use to study the stars."

"The Asgard?" Martouf asked with interest.

Samantha nodded. "Master Freyr let me study the construction of one once when he took it apart to clean it."

"That is very interesting. The Tok'ra know much of telescopes, but that knowledge was inherited from the Asgard long ago. I had not realized you studied with them."

"My father never told you?"

"He did not."

"Well, he never told me an extensive deal about the Tok'ra, either, so I suppose that's an even exchange."

"The Asgard are very protective of their secrets."

Samantha turned to regard him keenly. "Much like the Tok'ra," she pointed out.

He smiled diplomatically. "Yes, that is true."

Samantha was suddenly conscious of how close his face was. She was halfway to deciding whether or not to keep staring at the warm tone of his skin when suddenly the passage around them was flooding with hot, white light. Samantha and Martouf both winced and stepped back. Samantha held up a hand to block out the assault on her eyes until she was safely behind the mirror.

"It would seem our counterparts have all fully completed the sequence for this hour," Martouf observed.

Samantha was blinking rapidly, trying to see around the sunspots that were overwhelming her vision. "Yes, it would," she agreed.

"Would you are to see any more, or shall we descend?"

"I would care to see as much as you're willing to show me," Samantha replied boldly. She could finally see him again, so she lowered her hand with a smile. "For as long as you're willing to let me impose."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Martouf spent the next few days giving Samantha an extensive tour of Vorash, showing her intimate details of the city's construction and management, from the water and ventilation systems to a demonstration of the tunneling he'd described. Samantha awoke each morning with an anticipation she couldn't remember having quite experienced before, an anticipation she knew as having almost as much to do with Martouf's company as it did with the wonders he was showing her.

A fortnight after her arrival, Martouf took her to the common room where the Tok'ra often convened for music or conversation after the evening meal. In this case, Martouf introduced her to a new game of strategy.

"What did you say this was called?" Samantha asked, frowning at the squares and pieces before her.

"Chess."

She put her finger cautiously on one piece, then another, reviewing the capabilities of each. Then, decisively, she picked up the castle and used it to remove one of Martouf's priests from the board. She looked up at him in triumph.

To her surprise, his only response was to look equally as pleased. He moved his queen a few spaces and folded his hands on the tabletop. "And now I've won."

"But—" Samantha frowned. Her king was in no immediate danger.

"Just consider a moment."

After a few moments' careful perusal of the board and a limited number of contingencies, Samantha saw that no matter what course of action she took, Martouf would defeat her in a matter of a few moves. Disgruntled, she picked up her king and put him off the board.

"Shall we play again?" he asked, his eyes merry.

Samantha glared. "Yes." She began reorganizing her pieces. "I'm going to learn all of your sneaky tricks until our expertise is matched. And then when I go home, I shall be cruel to Rodney as you have been cruel to me. And also–" she reflected "–maybe to Lord Jack as well. This seems to me a pastime that would appeal to both of them." She laughed. "There's an odd thought."

"Lord Jack?" Martouf inquired.

"Oh, pardon me. It is a nickname. I was referring to Lord Jonathan of Neill. He has been a good friend to me over the years. A mentor of sorts, you might say."

"I am somewhat familiar with him. We were briefly introduced in Atlantis. But who is this other gentleman to whom you refer?"

Briefly, Samantha explained the gist of Rodney's presence in Atlantis and the nature of their friendship. When she told the story of their first meeting, Martouf laughed heartily.

"When I first met Jolinar," he said, "we were both quite young. I visited her home of Malkshur, which is our second-largest city save the capital. The library there is second to none in all of Tok'ra. After several weeks, I was deeply entrenched in my studies, using certain materials on loan from the archives. One day, a brash young woman came to my dormitory, and with nothing so much as a polite hello, began chastising me vehemently in front of all the other young men. As I recall, some terms such as 'selfish ingrate', 'cold-hearted pack rat' and 'enemy of the pursuit of knowledge' were used.

Samantha gave an amazed laugh. "Jolinar?"

"None other."

"Why was she so angry?"

"It turns out she had been waiting almost since my arrival for one of the tomes I had in my possession from the archives. The administrator kept assuring her that he would request it back from me, but because of my family connections he never bothered to ask me any such thing. He told her this only to appease her. Jolinar, of course, did not know this, so she presumed I was merely being... well, a selfish ingrate." He chuckled. "And took matters into her own hands."

"What did you do?"

"What else? I surrendered the tome to her and was distracted for the next three days by the memory of the event. It certainly left an impression. I'd never met a woman with such fire in her eyes before."

"How long before you were married?"

He looked up over the board, which was now completely reset. "You jump straight to the end of a very violent story, Lady Samantha."

She laughed. "Nevertheless."

He gave a fond smile, his eyes darkened with fond memory. "Four months," he said quietly. "We were married within four months."

They fell quiet for a moment. Samantha looked at his face, his expression both warm and sad, and found she didn't feel the awkwardness she would have expected. She felt comfortable, peaceful, and somehow gratified, that he would share such intimate memories with her. And she found herself curious as to how the brash, fearless Jolinar had come to marry a quiet, tender-hearted young Tok'ra nobleman before the turn of four months.

She reached out and covered his hand with hers. "She was very special."

He looked down at her hand in surprise. "Yes." Then he looked up at her, and his eyes were no longer haunted with the past. "You are also very special, my lady."

Samantha held her breath, and when she could bear the spell of the moment no longer she slowly pulled her hand away, flushed. "It is my move first, is it not?"

A short time later, after he'd beaten her in another round, they rose and took their leave. He escorted her back to the dormitory. "Lady Samantha, I would like to let you know what a privilege these past few days have been in your company," he said outside the chamber door.

Samantha's smile hesitated slightly. "That sounded like goodbye," she said.

"Of a sorts. I am called away to one of our southern settlements for a few days, but I shall begin my return by the end of the following week. And then I hope to have the pleasure of meeting you in Grazim for a summer celebration we are having there. You and your father are both invited."

"Where is Grazim?" she asked.

"It is the village nearest to Vorash, just outside the mountains. The soil is a bit rocky, but with the help of our irrigation systems we are able to coax a tolerable crop yield from the land. I hope to show you how it works."

"Then I shall anticipate it eagerly," she assured him. "I suppose I shall have to resign myself to reading again until your return."

He gave a knowing smile. "Perhaps," he said mysteriously. "But then, perhaps you will find yourself pleasantly surprised by the turn of your day tomorrow."

Samantha looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

There was a mischievous gleam in his eye. "I will say no more." He took her hand between his and bowed over it. "Until we meet again, Lady Samantha."

* * *

Samantha didn't have to wait long the following morning to learn of Martouf's strange hint from the previous night. Just after breakfast, her father sought her out. He was accompanied by a young Tok'ra woman that Samantha recognized by sight, but to whom she'd not been introduced.

"Samantha," he said, looking puzzled but not displeased. "This is Anise. She has a request to make of you on behalf of the council here in Vorash."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Samantha greeted.

Anise gave a dismissive, perfunctory nod in reply. "Lady Samantha," she said, and her words had a distinctly formal tone, "having learned of your experience studying with the Asgard order, and your own service to Queen Elizabeth in various scientific capacities, Lord Martouf has recommended to Chancellor Yosef that we permit your assistance to the Tok'ra in a project of our own."

Samantha looked over at her father, amazed. He seemed no less amazed, but his pride was clear in the smile that beamed from his features. Samantha returned it briefly before turning back to Anise. "I would be honored to assist you," she said.

"Excellent," Anise replied. "If you'll accompany me?"

"I'll see you this evening, I suppose," Jacob said, as Samantha turned to follow her escort, still feeling a little stunned.

Martouf had briefly shown her the workshops where the Tok'ra engineers worked diligently on progressing the science of their people, but she had not been permitted an extensive survey of the room's contents. Now she realized that this was where she had seen Anise before. Hers had been one of several stiff and tolerant expressions favored upon Samantha during Martouf's tour. As she was briefly reacquainted with the other scientists now, Samantha felt the same skeptical distance emanating from the lot of them. She took this to mean that they were less enthusiastic about her presence than Martouf, and she immediately resolved to overcome all of their doubts. It wasn't as though she hadn't been doing as much for her entire life. She wasn't about to shame her father, and she wanted to meet and even outshine Martouf's faith in her.

Anise did not waste any time in outlining what was expected of Samantha. First she led her straight to the furthest corner of the workshop. "This is the space we have prepared for you to work," she explained. "There is a desk, a drafting table, and a workbench, all at your disposal." She put a hand imperiously on the back of the desk chair and lifted her chin in Samantha's direction.

Samantha's smile as she looked around the workspace was in no way grudging. "This is a very fine area," she said admiringly. There was good light, plenty of space, and it was very clean.

"Of course it is. Chancellor Yosef has high hopes for your contribution."

Samantha's smile faltered slightly. She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a warning. "And my I ask as to the details of this contribution? Your words before suggested a very specific project."

Anise turned to the desk and began turning over pages of a neatly-stacked pile of papers. "The Tok'ra have long been researching more efficient means of water transport. As you have seen, water is the most precious of commodities in Vorash. It is the same in most of the remainder of our country, in some cities even more so. We have had some success with various wind-powered systems, but have produced nothing practical enough for widespread, everyday use. The council hopes that your fresh perspective, along with the combined knowledge of the Asgard and the Tok'ra, that you could help us devise a workable solution."

Samantha eyed the drawings and scratches of many hands in the notes before her eyes. Already it felt like her mind was itching in anticipation, thirsty to learn, hungry for the triumph of success. "I do know somewhat of Asgard engineering for utility systems," she admitted. "I'm hopeful that I can help."

"Excellent. I will leave you to study our research on the subject for now. Please let myself or Ryash know if you have need of clarification on any point." Here, Anise turned and nodded at a middle-aged Tok'ra man a few places a way from Samantha. He looked up at the sound of his name and gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, then returned to his work. "Additionally," Anise said, "whatever materials you wish or require, please make a list. We will accommodate you as best as we are able."

"Thank you." Samantha was impatient for Anise to step aside so that she could get started.

Anise seemed to sense this. "Very well. I leave you to it. The facilities, should you need them, are just to the left of the entrance, and we break for midday meal together. You will be required to join us, as you are not permitted access to this workshop without supervision, nor to participate in any other research without permission. If you have any point of doubt on these stipulations, please advise me. Good day, Lady Samantha."

And then, briskly, she was gone. Samantha exhaled in relief, and took a satisfied look around the industrious room before scrambling into her seat.

For the next hour, then the next morning, and then the next three days, Samantha barely remembered she was in a foreign country. Her world was reduced to nothing but a brand new codex of knowledge, insights, and scribbled notes. She sometimes wondered if Anise had counted upon just how many questions Samantha would have. Much of what she asked was for reinforcement and clarification, but she learned quite a lot that was wholly new to her as well.

When she'd exhausted her study and memorization of the Tok'ra notes, she was already brimming with ideas to play with for solving their water problem. Maybe not everything would be of use, but she knew that a couple of them, at least, showed real promise. True to her word, Anise was able to provide Samantha with most of her requests for tools within a very short space of time.

Working under Anise's supervision was not exactly what Samantha had first supposed. As time went on, she came to realize that the other woman's distance was less disapproval of Samantha's presence as it was annoyance at being pulled from her own work. Though of course Samantha was not made privy to the details of any other Tok'ra scientist's work, she seemed to observe an almost unhealthy single-mindedness in Anise's obsession with her science. Master Freyr had once warned Samantha against such fixation. "Method is just as important as result," he said. "Knowledge without integrity is not worth gaining."

When the week came to an end, it almost took Samantha by surprise, but it was a pleasant interruption. She was eager at the prospect of reuniting with Martouf, and even more to share with him what she had been working on.

"Are you going to the summer celebration in Grazim?" she asked Anise the last day before Martouf was expected to return.

"Yes." Anise expressed neither pleasure nor distaste with the affirmation. "I am going to see my husband and my children."

Samantha blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you had children," she blurted. "Or that you were married," she added hastily. Her mind was still stuck on the children aspect. Anise was probably the least motherly person she had ever met.

"That is unsurprising, as I have never spoken of them. I have two children, a daughter and a son. They are seven and four years of age, respectively."

"And they live in Grazim?"

"With their father."

"Is that because children are not permitted in Vorash?" Samantha asked.

Anise nodded. "In their infancy, I cared for them, and my husband did his duty here in Vorash. When my project here is complete, we will alternate places once more."

"So you never get to be together?"

Anise seemed confused. "Of course. We shall see each other at the celebration. And there are other such festivals of reunion throughout the year."

Samantha was having trouble imagining such a scenario.

Anise studied her closely. "What is the matter? You have a distressed expression."

"It just seems like such a lonely arrangement," Samantha confessed. "For you, for your husband, for your children." Samantha had lost her own mother not long before she turned sixteen. She was grateful to have memories, but the idea of having a living mother voluntarily staying away was an amazing one to her.

"I do not see how it is lonely," Anise said. "I am not alone when I am here. My husband and children are not alone in Grazim." She peered intently at Samantha again. "I had heard that in Atalan the immediate family was held in higher regard than one's people as a whole."

"I suppose that's true, in a sense," Samantha said slowly.

"Ah." Anise's expression cleared. "It is not that way here." She almost sounded pitying. "Among the Tok'ra, one's community is one's family." Her words were almost a perfect echo of Jacob's observation to Samantha when she had arrived.

The conversation stuck uncomfortably in the back of Samantha's mind and would not dislodge. She wasn't quite sure why. But she put it from her mind as best she could. There was a celebration to think about, and whether or not Anise was looking forward to it, Samantha could not tell, but Samantha was certainly excited.

* * *

The journey to Grazim was decidedly uncomfortable. Samantha was in a carriage with her father, but this time they were part of a group of Vorash's residents, also heading north for the festivities. The terrain was far from smooth, and they spent most of the time tolerating as best they could the bump and tumble of the carriage wheels over the ruts and stones of the narrow ravine passes. They cleared the craggy coastal hills and began to descend into the plain late in the afternoon. A few miles from the settlement, the carriage driver stopped in order that Samantha and Jacob might disembark and get a sight of Grazim from above.

The settlement was as open and flat as Vorash was cloistered and concealed. At the foot of the fortress-like coastal mountains, the village was laid out in a plain grid, a market square in the center, surrounded by the workshops of artisans and other centers of commerce, and then by the huts and barracks of the residents. There were water mills, windmills, and guard towers on the edges of the town, and the river flowed past the whole scene before disappearing south into the mountains, on its way to Vorash and then to the sea. Samantha also noticed that sluices and troughs had been built along the river bank to carry the water from the river to the neatly irrigated lines of vegetable crops, grain fields, and orchards laid out far to either side of the river. Briefly, she wondered if this was one of the places the Tok'ra hoped to utilize the project they had given her.

They made the rest of the journey down into the center of the town, where Samantha was pleased to note, with a small thrill, that Martouf was among the small crowd eager to welcome the caravan of visitors. His broad smile when he spotted her was enough to make Samantha willingly lay to rest all of her questions for the time being.

"You have arrived just in time," he said, reaching out a hand to help her descend the carriage. "After a brief time to refresh yourselves, we will be starting our celebrations." He nodded toward a large pile of kindling being constructed in the center of the village.

Samantha laughed. "This looks much like the bonfires that we have for festivals in Atalan."

His blue eyes sparkled with enjoyment. "Far better to have good things in common than bad, would not you agree, my lady?" He kissed her fingers. Samantha kept her breath under control, but let her insides do exactly as they pleased. "I would agree. Where do you get the wood?"

Now it was his turn to laugh. "It is a luxury. But it has been a promising year. We can afford it for one night. Valna will show you to your lodgings and see to your comfort." He gestured to a young woman some feet away, who seemed to be taking charge of the other single women who had arrived from Vorash. Beyond her, Samantha spotted Anise embracing a handsome Tok'ra man about ten years her senior. While happy didn't seem to be an expression that Anise knew very intimately, Samantha did notice a certain serenity on the otherwise severe woman's face. When Anise proceeded to kneel and embrace two small children, Samantha hastily turned away, feeling as though she were intruding.

She turned back to Martouf. "Will we see you this evening, then?"

"Of course."

She glanced at the square with the bonfire lying in wait. "Will there be dancing?"

"There most certainly will."

As dusk fell, Samantha was surprised how swiftly a chill descended with it. She was obliged to carry a heavy woolen shawl along with her when she departed with the other young women for the celebrations. She was also surprised that no one seemed to be dressing with too high an additional regard. True, everything was freshly washed, pressed, and scented, and the young ladies took perhaps more care for their hairstyles than was customary (Samantha was no exception), but their dresses were still sturdy and comfortable, and their shoes even more so.

Samantha joined her father and Martouf at one of the many long, low banquet tables in the open air, and everyone enjoyed a hearty meal beneath the deepening starlight. When the dancing began, it took Samantha a little while to get used to it. She had been expecting dances between pairs, as she was accustomed to in Atlantis. Instead, nearly every dance involved a large circle of people, including the children, with simple and elegant rhythms of feet and movement of bodies, changing of places, crossings of hands, and plenty of laughter to go around. Samantha reflected on what Anise had told her, that the Tok'ra placed emphasis on their community before all else, and decided that this form of dance made sense in light of such a cultural paradigm. Martouf was beside her the entire evening, whispering instruction into her ear, sometimes helpful, sometimes not, but always more than welcome.

The party was still going strong, and looked to not be waning any time soon when she was surprised by Martouf taking her hand and pulling her from the crowd to a shadowed place beneath one of the buildings.

"Will you come with me?" he asked. "Away for a little while? There is something I wish to show you."

Samantha hesitated, despite the rush she felt at his words. Whatever he was asking was not a question of a diplomatic nature.

Martouf noticed her concern. He lifted his hand like he wanted to touch her, but then he pulled away. "Believe me, you have no need to fear anything untoward."

Feeling that she was probably sleepwalking, Samantha slowly looked down and found his fingers in the half darkness, weaving them into her own. "Then let's go and see," she whispered. She still felt afraid, though of what, she couldn't rightly say. More than likely of herself.

He led her hastily through the quiet streets of Grazim. Nobody seemed to notice them slipping away. Just past the last row of houses was a horse hitched to a small wagon tied to an olive tree. Martouf helped Samantha to climb up, then clambered up beside her and took the reins.

They rode in silence out of the town, back toward the craggy mountains. As they climbed the dusty paths of the foothills, Samantha happened to look up and gasped when she finally noticed the stark perfection of more stars than she could have possibly imagined.

Martouf laughed. "Now you're beginning to see," he said.

They journeyed some ways higher. Samantha's teeth began to chatter, but she forcefully ignored the discomfort. At long last, Martouf pulled the chaise onto an outcropping that was suspiciously flat, even in the poor light. Samantha let him lift her down to the ground, thrilling at the feel of his hands on her sides and his arms under her fingers, and she decided as they walked along the wide ledge that this place had been planed.

"There," Martouf said, and pointed to the uttermost jutting of the natural parapet. Samantha could not at first see what it was he was pointing at, a strange, spindly shadow with only slightly more substance than the night all around it. She took a few steps closer.

"A telescope!" she exclaimed. "Master Thor has one, but his is not so big, and I have never seen this many stars around Atlantis, not even in the winter."

"It is partly the temperature, yes," Martouf admitted. "But also the general clarity of the atmosphere here. Your city, after all my lady, is surrounded by water."

"Can you see Pangar tonight?" she asked, thinking about the first star she'd ever learned to find on her own, at the right young age of eight.

"Yes."

"Of course," she said aloud. "It's midsummer, and we're not that far from Atalan. It's got to be..." she scanned the skies with urgency, hardly aware of the cold anymore. "There!"

Martouf helped her to point and focus the enormous telescope. Beneath the powerful glass, Pangar shone with a violet-gold halo, and Samantha felt her smile might find enough strength to jump free from her face.

"And Aladrum, you know, is not a star at all," Martouf said, turning the telescope toward the Wanderer. "There are bands on it like fire."

Samantha stared at the planet with newfound wonder, remembering when Thor had first told her that what seemed to be a star was not a star, and how hard it was to believe, even though she'd wanted it so badly to be true. Now she could see it, like a bright marble, cold and far away, but far nearer than anything else that crossed the night sky, apart from the moon.

"A long time ago, the Asgard came here to study astronomy. They taught us much of what they knew, and though they have forgotten us, we have not forgotten the stars."

Samantha pulled back to look at him. "Show me more," she pressed. "Solaris, and Jen'tor, and Noriah, and–" She stopped short at the quiet merriment on his face as he watched her. "What is it?"

By way of reply, Martouf leaned down and stole the rest of her breath and her words with it in a warm, tender kiss. Samantha dropped the end of the telescope in surprise. She found her hands moving of their own accord, questing for his shoulders, the sandy hair on the nape of his neck, everything she'd been imagining into her pillow at night. She imagined too that he tasted of desert salt and starlight and fire.

He pulled away as gently as he'd captured her, and swallowed, looking uncharacteristically out of sorts. "I will show you," he said, "I'll show you them all. Must it be now?"

Heart pounding, Samantha shook her head. "No. No, it can wait. It can most certainly wait." She reached to pull him back. There was more than one kind of world to discover, after all.

* * *

When Samantha returned with her father and Martouf to Vorash, her time was solidly divided between her new tasks in assisting the Tok'ra scientists, and an even more wondrous experience of a blossoming romance. She found that each passing day brought a deeper sense of satisfaction with Martouf's company.

While Samantha had always been less fascinated with romance than her peers, she had never been averse to it either. It was just that there were so many _other_ things that vied for her attention, things that seemed to her much worthier of her indulgence, as they were thoroughly within the realm of her control. Let love happen when it may, she'd decided long ago. Now that it was upon her, she found herself at something of a loss. Was she in love? Or was she merely suffering from a passing fancy?

It did not take her father long to notice something was different. "I sense a change in you, Samantha," he said to her one evening as they took a private walk together. "I suspect it has something to do with Lord Martouf."

Samantha looked up at her father with a sudden, flush expression, but he was smiling kindly at her.

There was no accounting for her guilt – she was not the sort to attempt concealing anything from him. Perhaps she was just nervous. In an attempt to reestablish her composure, she gave a slight clearing of her throat. "Lord Martouf and I have acknowledged a certain mutual... admiration," she confessed. Then she looked into his eyes. "What is your opinion?"

Jacob exhaled, heavily. "He is a good man, kind and honorable, who has long since earned my trust and respect. And I know that he is the kind to cherish all your talents and aspirations."

Samantha gave a dry laugh. "My aspirations. At times I hardly know what they are myself."

Jacob looked at her with a knowing gleam in his brown eyes. "Quite simply, my dear, you want to learn all there is to know about everything until the day you die." He turned forward again with a chuckle.

Samantha smiled. "You're right. And I do find myself drawn to Lord Martouf," she confessed, "all the more with your blessing. But it is a new experience for me. There is much to consider."

"Such as?"

"What if he asks for my hand?"

"Don't you think that a bit hasty?"

"His acquaintance with Jolinar was not a long one before they were wed. I cannot but suppose his character in such matters to be unchanged."

"I see."

Samantha stopped in her tracks and turned to face her father fully. "The more I think about it, Father, the more I truly believe I am falling in love."

Whatever reaction Jacob felt towards this declaration he kept well-concealed. "Then what is your hesitation?" he asked instead, neutrally.

"That as much as I desire him, I'm not sure that I desire all the change that a union with him would mean. How much sacrifice." Abruptly, Samantha thought of Anise's marriage and realized why it had so unsettled her. Was that what a marriage with Martouf would be like? Living in different cities to raise children? Always putting their work before each other? Samantha would not want to spend months on end without him if she were married to him. A flush came over her body at the thought of the chief reason why. But it was not the only one.

Jacob peered at her. "Marriage is always sacrifice. That, I think, is the truest expression of love. It's a lesson that I learned much, much too late." He looked away sadly for a moment, his thoughts somewhere beyond her. "What you have to decide is what and how much you're willing to give up. Just be sure that whoever you choose is willing to do the same."

"If I were to choose Martouf and he were to choose me," Samantha said carefully, "I would be asked to give up my home, my culture, my people and live in this strange place..." She let the words fade, leaving only apprehension to hang noticeably in its wake.

"Who's to say you could not convince him of the charms of Atlantis?" Jacob pointed out with mild amusement.

"You know as well as I do that would not be the case, Father. Even if it could be, one of us would still be making such a concession."

"I might point out that there is one atypical gain from such a proposition," Jacob said, " _and_ express a mild hurt that you have not mentioned it in your calculations. If you lived here, you would see your dear father much more than you would at home, and may I say that the prospect of being so near to my daughter and my grandchildren is one that gives me a rather unavoidable bias towards it."

Samantha smiled guiltily. "Of course. That would be a welcome circumstance."

"In any case, as the Tok'ra themselves would say, we are counting raindrops before the clouds."

Samantha studied her hands. "Perhaps I am too hasty in my preoccupation," she acknowledged. "It is not something I have given much thought to before now. This whole new realm of doubt and possibility laid out before me has given rise to unprecedented alarm on my part." She looked up at her father with a grateful smile. "But I value your counsel."

Samantha considered her father's words for the next few days, adding them to her own thoughts tumbling over and over through her mind, always lurking somewhere nearby, in her pleasurable hours spent with Martouf, or her satisfying hours spent designing her solution for the water problem.

The Tok'ra had been right to gamble on Samantha's experience with Asgard knowledge. The solution she designed for their water quandary was little more than combining two machines she already understood fairly well. The preliminary design had been finished a few days after her return from Grazim. A few days after that was all she needed to consult with some of the other Tok'ra scientists, mostly Martouf, Anise, and Ryash, about the adaptability of her design to the various specific terrains in which it could be used, and then two weeks working with the metal smiths to build a prototype.

Finally, her invention was ready to be presented to the Tok'ra council.

"Relax, Samantha," said Martouf soothingly. His voice sounded distant and dissolute, though he was standing quite close. They were in a large underground cavern, which made his words echo, and the roar of the river close did its best to drown him out. "The prototype is working well. I am sure that the Council will not be displeased with your work."

"You're right, I know," she said in return, raising her voice a little to be heard. They were waiting together in one of the lower caverns. The members of the Tok'ra High Council were on their way. They would arrive soon to inspect Samantha's machine and decide on whether or not they would like to adopt the design. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. Just general pride, I suppose."

Martouf stepped over to halt Samantha in her pacing. He took both of her hands. "Relax," he entreated again.

She gave a heavy, obedient sigh and closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. When she opened her eyes again, she gave him a reassuring smile.

Martouf looked over his shoulder, checking to see if there were any signs yet of the Council's arrival. Not seeing any, he turned back to Samantha and gently kissed her lips. She accepted the gesture willingly, tender and warm as it was. Together they had stolen many such moments over the past few weeks, and each kiss, each small touch, was preserved perfectly in her mind.

"It will be fine," he was quick to assure her again when they'd pulled apart.

It was only a few more minutes before the echoes of more voices and the flicker of torchlight began heading toward them from the tunnel beyond. Martouf and Samantha pulled apart and waited respectfully near the tunnel mouth until the party arrived. Chancellor Yosef was at its head, as well as the rest of the council, Samantha's father, Anise, and some of the other Tok'ra scientists and engineers. Samantha's nerves increased a little bit.

"Well, Lady Samantha, rumor has it that you have a show for us. I hope to be diverted." Yosef gave a genuine, albeit somewhat distant smile. It was clear that her journey here was not the only thought occupying her mind. Samantha knew she was only one part of a larger agenda, so she stepped up hurriedly.

"Yes, Chancellor. Thank you for taking the trouble to come all the way down here, but I have found that drawings of a machine are far less effective than a demonstration."

"I believe I can concur with that opinion."

"If you'll follow me a bit closer to the edge here. Yes, right there. Thank you." Samantha took a breath, and put one hand on a crank attached to a long, fat pipe extending down a couple of feet into the river's rushing water below. "In truth," she said, "this is only one half of the full device that I have proposed, but it is the half that is new to the Tok'ra. The Asgard call this the water screw. They invented it a few decades ago, but we haven't had an abundance of use for it in Atalan, as our rainfall and natural irrigation are more than sufficient for our water needs.

"When you look down inside the pipe, you'll see that there is a component within the casing that looks rather like a spiral staircase inside a tower, and the bottom of this pipe is angled to scoop at the water so that when I turn this crank–" here she proceeded to do so "–the water is trapped inside and raises to the surface."

It took a little while for her to pump water all the way up through the pipe, but when it finally spilled out of the top into the basin that was sitting on the other end, the reaction was grudging approval. She even got a little bit of applause.

"Ingenious," said Chancellor Yosef, stepping forward. "And so simple. I wonder that we did not think of it ourselves."

"Well, I cannot take the credit."

"And how would you make this a practicality for Tok'ra farming?"

"Not just farming," Samantha added. "It's a very helpful device for mining as well, but as far as irrigation goes, it would be a very simple matter indeed to combine this with a windmill. I got a taste of how strong the winds in the plains can be when I was in Grazim. I think, perhaps, I might also be able to design a screw which would be powered by the force of the river, as well."

"Well, I believe I've seen all that I need to see," said the Councilor, looking around at her comrades. "We will rule on it officially at our next meeting the day after tomorrow, of course, but I think I can safely say that we will be incorporating your designs into a practical test, probably in Grazim."

Samantha smiled widely. "That is wonderful news, Councilor."

"Thank you for your help, Lady Samantha. I trust we will see you at supper tonight?"

"Of course. I would not miss it."

The Councilors headed off on the rest of their busy day, closely followed by Jacob. Samantha could see by his expression that he wished he could stop and talk, but he was obliged to follow. Instead, Anise stepped forward. "Congratulations, Lady Samantha. "The Councilors will expect a full design for their ruling, so we had better get to work finalizing the plans for Grazim's landscape."

"Yes, of course. I'll be right there."

From Anise's hesitation, very slight but also very pointed, Samantha got the impression that the other woman would have preferred Samantha accompany her back, but she merely glanced between the two and respectfully stepped away.

Once they were alone again, Samantha turned back to Martouf with a jubilant smile.

"Congratulations, Samantha," he said, his own pleasure evident in his face.

On impulse, she threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she said.

He returned the embrace briefly, then pulled her arms back from around his neck. "Come with me," he said, taking one hand and guiding her toward the tunnel. He offered no other explanation, but Samantha was content to simply wait and see where he was leading her. Every other surprise he'd had for her since she'd come to Tok'ra had been a good one, after all.

Martouf led her back toward the heart of the city until they came to one of the many alcoves surrounding the central atrium, a place where the two of them had been fond of passing the evenings in conversation and other discreet pursuits for the past few weeks.

"Samantha," he said, drawing her into a quiet corner and taking both of her hands again. "I hope you know what your presence here has meant to me. For a time after Jolinar's death, I did not think I would ever seek love again, and though my heart has much healed since that time, I had not expected the feelings that your friendship has excited. What I mean to say–" he stumbled forward nervously "–is that I do not need a wife for any advancement of my own comfort or fortune." He looked up and met her gaze hopefully. "I want you to marry me because I have come to care for you as a husband ought for a wife. And you have given me reason to hope that my wishes might be returned in kind. Will you marry me, Samantha?"

Samantha was amazed in spite of herself. She felt warm – assured. He wanted _her_. In light of that consideration, everything else seemed distant and paltry. "I will," she said, the words escaping her lips well beyond her control, and she reached up for an embrace that seemed only fitting.

When Samantha finally made it back to the workshop, it was undoubtedly much later than Anise was expecting. Indeed, the pale tightness of Anise's lips betrayed her disapproval, but Samantha was feeling much too giddy to care.

"Thank you for joining us, Lady Samantha," Anise said dryly.

Samantha looked around, confused. As it was nearing the end of the day, there was hardly anyone remaining in the vicinity. "Us?" she repeated.

"We numbered more an hour ago."

"Ah." Samantha tried to muster a regretful feeling. Admittedly, Anise did deserve such a gesture, but it was very difficult to do. "I do apologize. I lost track of the time."

Anise merely sighed, and seemed to be willing to conclude her displeasure. "I have annotated the basic design for the adjunct of the water screw to our best-performing windmill in Grazim. I believe it needs only your agreement before we can approve the necessary engineering."

"Very well," Samantha pulled the designs toward her. She pulled the bright lamp more closely over the papers and began to study the plans, scolding the part of her brain still leaping around in elated joy. Once she'd willed herself to calm down, it didn't take long to review Anise's annotations and equations. "Everything looks in order to me," she said with a satisfied nod. She began rolling the plans into a neat cylinder, which she then handed to Anise.

"Very well. I will take them to the Council tomorrow for approval."

Samantha began to blow out the candles and torches, as was the nightly custom when all work was concluded. "You know," she said between candles, "I'm excited for the other benefit that these designs might have."

"How do you mean?" Anise was sliding the rolled up designs into a protective, waxed case.

"Well, in Caldora, for example. I understand from various sources that they are on occasion given to unexpected drought. If such a circumstance should befall them in the next few years, it would be a hard blow indeed. But so much of their country is open. I think the windmill employed in this way would serve them very well."

Anise stopped and frowned at Samantha, perplexed and concerned. "Lady Samantha," she began awkwardly.

What is it?"

"I am sorry if it was not made clear to you. Your contributions here are secrets to be shared with other sovereignties only as the Tok'ra see fit. I find it unlikely that Caldora or any other country would benefit from this research for many years."

Samantha stopped in her tracks. "What do you mean? That's ridiculous. If it was a weapon, I would understand, but this is hardly a threatening invention."

Anise inhaled sharply. "It is not my place to speak in this fashion any further," she said. "All I know is that if you share what you have learned outside of Vorash, there will be... uncomfortable ramifications."

"Ramifications?" Samantha repeated, stunned. "I didn't even _invent_ anything. I just passed along what the Asgard were kind enough to teach me. This isn't Tok'ra knowledge to hoard." Samantha was distressed at how quickly her inner peace and happiness was disintegrating.

"I will say no more," said Anise brusquely, and hurried away before Samantha could further confront the point.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't easy to get a private conversation with Jacob, but Samantha managed to wrangle a moment. The evening was pressing so late that she knew she was in danger of making him tardy for his usual evening meal with the High Council, but she wasn't feeling particularly well-disposed toward the Council at the moment. The fact that they had spent more of her life with her father than _she_ had was only fuel to her determination.

"Please tell me that you didn't know this would happen," she said in a low, urgent whisper. She found it was very difficult to trust in a private conversation anywhere in a complex of caverns and secret passages.

Jacob made his concern evident by wearily closing his eyes and reaching up to rub the center of his forehead and exhaling loudly through his nose. "I apologize, Samantha. I have been much distracted by coordinating with the Council on the retrieval of Tok'ra troops from Caldora." He lowered his hand. "You seemed so happy and self-sustained here that I didn't examine all the possible ramifications of you becoming entangled with Tok'ra science. And Tok'ra science and Tok'ra politics are essentially inseparable. I should have considered this. I should have spoken with you about it more carefully."

"Then there isn't anything you can do? Father, they can't prevent me from sharing what I know. I agreed to nothing of the kind. And the idea that they can claim exclusive rights to something that is barely even _new_ is laughable."

"I suspect that your ignorance on this point until now was not coincidental."

"You mean they didn't tell me on purpose?"

"You are an idealist, Samantha, especially when it comes to knowledge, and it doesn't take any great discernment to see that fact. I believe it was a deduction on the part of the Tok'ra that, had you known about their strict sense of secrecy on this matter before the fact, they would have met with considerable resistance in securing your assistance. Clearly, it was not an unfounded guess."

"What do they think they can actually do to prevent me?"

"If it's important enough to them, they could threaten to withdraw support from Queen Elizabeth."

Samantha gaped. "That's ridiculous. They wouldn't threaten to withdraw from aiding the Caldorans too, would they?"

"That's a trickier matter. The Caldorans are being threatened by the Goa'uld, and opposition of the Goa'uld is even higher on their priority list than keeping their secrets. It is because of the Goa'uld that the Tok'ra are so paranoid to begin with."

Samantha huffed angrily and paced away from her father. She turned to stare at him fixedly. "I cannot believe that one little water mill could be worth so much fuss."

Jacob's lips curled up in a wry smile. "Well, I am painting a worst case scenario, I admit. More likely they would retaliate by giving Queen Elizabeth a lot of headache on the matter for the next few months, until they secured some sort of advantageous concession."

A curt laugh escaped Samantha's lips. "Could that be part of their master plan for me, too?"

Her father's smile broadened in pained sympathy. "It is a sad thing that I cannot completely refute that suggestion."

"Queen Elizabeth certainly does not need any more stresses, especially ones so petty," Samantha observed. She braced her hands on the back of her waist and resumed her agitated pacing. "And I would hate to have been the cause of it." She stopped and looked at the stone floor in angry, hurt pain. "I will not make an issue of it," she said, closing her eyes, fighting back angry, disgusted tears.

Jacob took a couple of steps toward her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her steadily in the eyes. "Samantha, calm down. You are right that we are blowing this situation out of proportion. There is much that I can do to smooth this situation. The Tok'ra also love debate and negotiation. For all their posturing, they are not without reason, and you know they are not without compassion." He raised her chin with his fingers. "Think of Lord Martouf, hmmn?"

Now two tears did escape Samantha's eyes. "That's the worst of it. He asked me to marry him, Father. Just this afternoon. And I told him that I would."

Jacob's reaction was a mix of excitement, confusion, and concern. "Then why this distress? I thought you cared for him."

"So did I. But you've just told me that the Tok'ra have played my passions as though I were part of a game of strategy. Martouf was the one who _suggested_ me to the Council, Father. He must have had all the insight that you have, and he told me nothing of it. Clearly, I do not know him." She shook her head. "Whether or not I am overreacting, I cannot marry with such duplicity."

Her father pressed his lips together. "I believe there is room to reconsider," he advised. "Talk with him. But if these remain your feelings, then I will not pressure your decision." He stepped back, his disappointment evident.

Samantha straightened her shoulders. "You're right about one thing. I do need to speak to him."

* * *

Dinner was unbearable. Martouf greeted her with a smile that could have weakened the stone of every cavern in Vorash, and Samantha could barely eat. He recognized right away that something was wrong, and his pleasure swiftly changed to apprehension, but with so many people around, Samantha had no opportunity to tell him what was wrong. They made polite, distant conversation through the entirety of the never-ending meal, and Samantha dreaded the confrontation to come.

After it was over, they walked together to their usual evening haunt, the very parapet where Martouf had proposed only hours before. Samantha pulled her shawl around her shoulders, already well-accustomed to how to ward off the swift-descending desert chill. She stepped to the edge of the parapet and gazed out at the darkening city above and below her, not wanting to look at him.

"I was hoping to tell your father of our engagement tonight," Martouf began quietly, stepping closer to her, but keeping a respectful distance. "But I sensed that that happy moment was not going to happen yet."

Samantha sighed heavily. "Did you know that the Council was not going to permit me to share my new invention with anyone else? Not even my own country?"

The uncomfortable silence that followed told her all that she needed to know. She felt him shuffle his feet, and a couple of moments later he stepped up to the stone railing, leaning down to brace his hands on it. He studied the night air before his face as though it might give him some resolution. "Yes," he said quietly.

"You didn't tell me." There was accusation in the clipped words.

"No."

She closed her eyes, wishing his answers had been different, wishing her instincts had been wrong, wishing there had been some acceptable explanation that would have left him the honest man he'd been before in her sight.

Slowly, she opened her eyes again, and looked at him. "I can't marry you, Martouf."

The night seemed to stifle them with silence, driving them into further isolation. He did not say anything.

"I would have been willing to put up with all these _caves_ and all this heat and having to raise our children in shifts, if that was truly necessary. I had considered that. But I will not marry without trust. And I have rarely respected any man as much as I have you. I still do, in many ways. I know that you have loyalties to your country as I do to mine, but I do not deny that some of that respect has broken today."

Martouf straightened to a stiff, formal stance and looked at her with veiled pain in his eyes. "Lady Samantha," he said, "I will not insult you with any manner of feigned excuse or undignified imploring. I have wronged you, wholly, and without excuse. Only know that my love is not pretense, and if there is some way that I can right myself in your esteem, then I am willing to do whatever it is that you may ask." He took her hand and bowed over it, then released her. "Good night."

Samantha watched him leave, then sat down on the nearby bench and wept.

* * *

The following week seemed interminable. Samantha was heartsick, and once again idle. Each day stretched in painful memory and regret. In a few short days, a ship would be coming to take her back to Atlantis, carrying letters of report for Queen Elizabeth, and a broken heart.

On the third to last day, she was once again staunchly trying to finish the botanical almanac that Carson had given her, when she received an unexpected visitor.

"Lady Samantha?"

She looked up from her reading. "Anise," she said in careful surprise, marking her place. She hadn't seen the other woman since her last day in the workshop, and found she could not think of anything else to say. She simply stared expectantly.

"It has been many days."

"It has."

"I am traveling to Grazim today to visit my family. My research has ended, and it is time for my husband to return to Vorash to assume his new assignment here."

"So Anise the scientist once again becomes Anise the mother," Samantha observed.

Anise tilted her chin in her characteristic bird-like way. "Yes," she said. "I thought perhaps you might like to accompany me. You are, after all, without any immediate occupation. You would return with my husband well in time to leave for your journey home."

If Samantha's surprise at receiving a visit from Anise was high, it was nothing compared to her surprise at this invitation. Her first reaction was almost repugnant. She had no overwhelming fondness for Anise, and there was the jolting carriage ride to think about. But then her mind fixed upon the choice between getting away or spending three more days choking in the frustrating limbo of Vorash, and she determinedly rose to her feet. "That is a very kind invitation, Anise. I thank you and I accept."

The oddity of the situation continued after she made some hasty preparations and joined Anise and their escorts in the usual egress from the city. Once they were on the road, Anise had very little to say to Samantha, an arrangement to which Samantha had little argument, but one which she found puzzling. She could not fathom what had put it into Anise's head to invite her on this excursion. Perhaps her father had suggested it. He knew how Samantha had been chafing in Vorash.

They arrived in Grazim in the early evening, and this time Samantha was formally introduced to Anise's husband, Kellan, and her children, Kelmah and Roran. They were pleasant children, polite and inquisitive, and Samantha found herself enjoying her evening for the first time in a while. Then she was comfortably settled on a pallet in the main chamber of the family's small house.

Unfortunately, it was not as easy to get to sleep as Samantha might have hoped, given the uncomfortable journey she'd taken. Also, the walls of the house were not so thick as to mask all of the unmistakable sounds of a husband and wife long-separated enjoying the novelty of one another's company. After a few moments, Samantha actually rose and slipped out of the house for a space, shivering in the night and staring at the stars, feeling a deep sense of loss. The ache in her heart was not helped when she finally deemed it safe to return to bed, because now the walls were muffling the sounds of Anise and Kellan talking in quiet, intimate voices. For some reason, Samantha felt herself even more intrusive than she had been before, but at least she did not feel cause to blush. She could not hear their words, after all, only their tenor. She found that the experience made her take serious reconsideration of how she viewed Anise.

At long last, however, she managed to fall asleep, and when she woke it was to bright sunshine streaming through the open windows, and the sounds of two children loudly trying to be quiet. Anise was putting stoneware on the polished wooden table in the far corner. Samantha groggily rose from the bed.

"Good morning, Lady Samantha. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Samantha lied. "Very well, thank you."

"I am glad of it. Kelmah, Roran, please go play outside now. I will serve midday in about an hour."

"Midday?" Samantha repeated, blinking in surprise. She examined the angle of the light and the shadows in the room more closely.

Anise gave a small smile. "Indeed. You slept quite some time. An admirable accomplishment, with my children coming and going as they do. Do you care for fresh milk? There are some figs here too."

Samantha stood to her feet and stretched the morning kinks out of her back. She wordlessly took a place at the table and then gave her hostess a perfunctory thanks for the sparse but tasty breakfast.

"Kellan has gone to check his improvements to the shoring on the irrigation ditches," said Anise as she put the plate of dried fruits and a cup of milk before Samantha. "He has a difficult time leaving them in the care of others. Even me." She took a seat on the opposite corner.

Samantha took a sip of the milk and blinked. "It tastes so different."

"It comes from goats. I know it is likely difficult to accustom to the taste at first."

"It is strange," Samantha confessed. "But I imagine it will not take me long to acclimate." She took another stoic sip by way of demonstration.

"Lord Martouf once told me that he felt the same about the milk he was privileged to sample in Atalan."

At the sound of Martouf's name, Samantha gave a start. She slowly put her cup down and looked shrewdly at Anise, realizing with a rush that this invitation had been no whim. "He asked you to invite me," she said.

Anise carefully took a fig from the bowl, her expression serene. "No."

Samantha folded her hands in her lap. She had just been starting to feel relaxed, but now all of that was gone, leaving a wary curiosity instead.

"I brought you out here to tell you a few things I think you ought to know, free from the prying ears of the High Council," Anise said coolly. "In Vorash there is far greater need for discretion than in Grazim." Samantha opened her mouth in shock at the near-seditious sentiment of this pronouncement, but Anise quickly cut her off with a smooth flick of her fingers. "Please, do not mistake me for a traitor to my country. I am more fiercely devoted to defending the Tok'ra than almost any of my peers, but I do not believe you represent any kind of danger to our interests."

"I–" Samantha floundered. "Thank you." She closed her mouth.

"First of all, I think you should be a little more gracious in your opinion of our treatment of this water mill matter. It is true that it is more benign in nature than machines of war, but think for a moment of all the implications. We need water desperately because of our climate, but so too do the Goa'uld. To both our cultures, water is more precious than gold. We use it to feed our people. The Goa'uld use it to feed their _armies_." This last bit she said almost with a glare, like a particularly severe and disapproving tutor. "Whether or not you believe this is important enough a reason for us to protect such an advantage is entirely up to you, but I want you to respect _our_ opinion on the matter. We do have reasons for our actions. The desire to keep the water mill a secret was not some whimsy designed specifically to bruise your pride."

Samantha stared. Even as she bristled at Anise's brusque manner, she was forced to acknowledge that she had not thought of the situation in that light before.

"Secondly, as he is a close friend and colleague, I feel compelled to speak a word on behalf of Lord Martouf."  
  
Samantha couldn't help it. She inhaled sharply, examining this declaration from all angles. Finally, she said, somewhat stiffly, "I was not aware that you understood so intimately my relationship with Lord Martouf."

"I would not perhaps describe my knowledge as 'intimate'," Anise commented. "But after knowing him for so long, it is impossible to mistake the change in him that your coming has wrought. He was devastated by Jolinar's death, and I did not think he would ever seek another." Here Anise paused and seemed to consider Sam critically. "You are like her in many ways, but very different too."

"I have told him that we cannot be married."

"And I think that if this unfortunate and easily-remedied affair is your only reason for refusing him, then you are being foolish. Take it from someone who has lived at times in a very trying marriage: this is hardly the first disappointment you will suffer. He will do far worse and you will pay back as much in kind. If you are so squeamish, then I advise you to never marry at all."

As seemed to be the pattern of the entire conversation – nay, the entire experience since Anise had first interrupted her reading in Vorash – Samantha just stared at her in utter surprise. She had utterly misjudged this woman.

Then, unexpectedly, she burst into laughter.

Now it was Anise's turn to be startled. She looked on in alarm as Samantha continued to laugh, one hand pressed against her stomach, and the other wiping at the tears that escaped from the corners of her eyes.

"I do not see what about this situation is funny," Anise finally commented, frowning.

Samantha waved a hand at her dismissively. "Me, a little bit. You. The way you say things." She forced herself to calm and smiled at Anise. "Thank you. That was just what I needed to hear. I can see that we are going to be good friends, and believe me, that comes as much as surprise to me as it does to you."

"I do not see how maintaining a friendship is going to be practical if you are returning to your home in two days."

"I think home just got a lot closer again."

* * *

It was the day of Samantha's scheduled departure. She had returned to Vorash much in much better spirits than she had left it, a paradox of terror and happiness. Her thoughts had tumbled through all of her father's advice, with the addition of Anise's no nonsense contributions, over and over again on the journey home, examining everything she was feeling and had felt in the last few weeks. She even thought back to Queen Elizabeth, and how she had developed an obvious, inexplicable attachment to John of Sheppard. Though Samantha was not quite as intimate to the queen's confidence as Lady Laura or Lady Kate, she was still a long time friend of Her Majesty, and could see much with her own eyes without having to be told. She supposed Anise's observation of Martouf had been much along the same lines. Lord John had severely strained Queen Elizabeth's trust since the moment they first met, and she had managed to forgive him.

The first person waiting to greet her in Vorash was her father.

"How was your journey?" he asked, greeting her with a kiss on her cheek.

"Thought-provoking. I am not eager to take another tomorrow."

"Are you certain that will be necessary?" he asked.

"Father–" she began.

"Before you reproach me," he said, "I think there is something you should know."

"What is that?"

He took her by the shoulders and looked her full in the face, speaking lowly. "Lord Martouf has spent the last five days negotiating with the High Council for conditions under which the water mill design can be offered as a goodwill token to Caldora and Atalan as soon as possible, and perhaps in the future, even to the Jaffa."

"He has?"

"Samantha, I would never pressure you to marry someone against your own compunctions, but I believe, in this case – if you love him, do not let this be your only reason for walking away from him."

"It's all right, Father." Samantha reached up and took Jacob's hand in her own, willing him to relax. "I agree."

Whether or not Samantha _should_ give her trust again was perhaps not the most important point anymore. What she found was that she wanted to. She did believe him. He loved her. She already missed him. And he was already taking action to try and earn her back, something that warmed her heart more than she could express.

She loved him. And she was willing to pay the necessary sacrifice to pursue that love.

She could hardly wait to see Martouf again, and hoped that any lingering pride from either of them would not impair a genial reconciliation. Not wanting to waste any time, she sent a formal request to see him as soon as she had arrived back in the city and was recovered enough from the journey.

"Samantha?" The sound of his voice made all her agitated excitement flare full force. He had answered her request with promising speed, calling upon her in one of the common rooms in the middle levels of the city.

She turned to him, wringing her fingers. "Martouf," she said. "I–"

"Please," he entreated, stepping forward, "may I begin?"

"Oh. Certainly."

Martouf cleared his throat, assuming a posture of formality, much as he had the last time he'd taken his leave of her. "Lady Samantha," he began, and she had the sense that this speech had been rehearsed in some capacity. "It is my pleasure to inform you that in acknowledgement of their unwitting contribution to the project, the High Council has agreed to offer the plans for the water mill to the Asgard, to share or to protect as they deem fit. The Ambassador from Atalan will take this offering to the Asgard upon his return to Atalan, as a token of good will."

"And when may that be?" she asked as soon as possible.

"As soon as is practical." His tone softened slightly. "The Council acknowledges that there may be those in immediate need of such benefit as the new mill might bring."

Samantha swallowed. Her fingers had stopped fidgeting. Only her heart remained restless, pounding loudly in her chest, the sound filling her ears. She met his eyes. "Thank you," she said softly. "And... I'm sorry."

"For what? I'm the one who was in the wrong. Please, Samantha, let me have the rest of my life to make it up to you."

A smile burst forth from her, and she rushed forward, letting him catch her closely and pull her close. "You have it," she said lowly, breathing in deeply of his scent. "You can start right now."

He kissed her, and a rush of joy filled Samantha's heart, a joy that was only the surface of a deeper peace that settled there, a peace that she determined to embrace. This was her choice. _Their_ choice.

Together, they would make it a worthy one.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I stole the water screw from Archimedes and the idea to connect it to a windmill from Da Vinci.
> 
> Also, Anise was supposed to be in "canon" character (aka 100% pain in the neck), but she kind of evolved, so in the end I kind of considered her an OFC with a free name.


End file.
